Trapped and Kissed by Freedom
by DreamALittleBigger
Summary: "Every day he comes and every day he watches. They don't say a word and he wonders if they ever will. She speaks first, on the thirteenth day not that he's counting . It is almost ironic." A prequel to "Crushed, Yet Unbroken". Three-shot.
1. The Start of Forever

**This is a prequel to "Crushed, Yet Unbroken."**

**DISCLAIMER: Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling. **

* * *

><p><strong>CHAPTER 1: The Start of Forever<strong>

She does not remember the first time she awakes. Perhaps it is because she does not truly awake. Her eyes open, her head rises and she curls her long fingers around the chains. It is the glazed, blank look in those dark irises that gives it away. She is looking, but she does not see.

And yet, it feels as if her gaze pierces his soul. His breath catches and his body feels frozen. He doesn't understand it and he never will. He has looked into those eyes before, countless times. He has seen them angry, hurt, elated, sad, accusing. But maybe that is exactly what fascinates him now.

He has never seen Hermione Granger's eyes blank.

She closes them before he can think twice about it and the spell is broken. He shakes his head imperceptibly and briefly considers staying just a bit longer. But his father is walking away and his mother is calling him and Aunt Bella is burning holes into his back.

He rises and walks away. It seems he is always walking away.

~0OO0~

He does not come back for weeks. He decides that it is not worth it to go down to the stairs. It is simply because there is no love lost between him and the prisoner's guard. That is it. He is not at all afraid of facing his past in her eyes. He is not at all apprehensive about watching the effects of Aunt Bella's torture take their toll.

And he is certainly not scared shitless of seeing the Unbreakable Granger broken. Not at all.

But he cannot avoid the cell forever. Perhaps he can, in theory, but it is a stupid mistake that sends him back to the cold walls of the Golden Girl's prison.

He takes up Zabini's challenge of sneaking into Aunt Bella's room. He is supposed to add a simple potion to her water glass so that she will wake up tomorrow with green hair. No one is supposed to know. Except that Blaise tells Goyle, and Goyle tells Crabbe, and before long Aunt Bella is fuming and pointing her wand at Draco.

"You insolent piece of shit!" She creams. "How dare you? You believe you can just waltz into my quarters like this, thinking…"

She goes on for a while, shrieking insults and death threats until she calms down enough to issue a punishment that does not involve blood or murder. Or both.

He will spend three hours each day in Granger's cell and watch her. He will then report Aunt Bella. He will not talk to her, he will not touch her, he will not even come nearer than five feet of her.

He will watch.

~0OO0~

He is relieved to find her asleep the next day. She sits on the floor, her ankles and wrists bound by chains. A dirty grey ripped dress hugs her body. It must have been white at some point. Her head hangs down, her unkempt and unwashed curls hiding her face.

He will not have to face her eyes just yet.

She awakes two hours and twenty nine minutes later. He can tell by the way her deep breaths become shallower and her insistent twitching stops. He allows his eyes to roam over her body for the two hundred and twelfth time and he can't help the intake of breath as he spies bruises upon bruises marring her skin near her neck where her hair has moved away. She hears him and slowly brings her head up. The earth-colored locks fall away from her face and he is trapped in her eyes.

They are alive. That is what shocks him the most. There is a fire in them, a force which can move mountains if it has to. There, in a cold dungeon cell deep in the lair of Lord Voldemort, her skin bruised and her hair matted, her crimson blood dried on the floor and no sunlight touching her face in months, Hermione Granger's eyes dance with the flame of faith, and for the first time, Draco Malfoy cannot look away.

That moment will mark the start of forever and the end of infinity.

They are silent for a long time, regarding each other with soundless understanding. She understands why he is here and he understands why he had never wanted to return. But there is nothing they can do about it, so they wait.

~0OO0~

Every day he comes and every day he watches. They don't say a word and he wonders if they ever will.

She speaks first, on the thirteenth day (not that he's counting). It is almost ironic.

"Could I have some water, please?" Her voice is low and rough with disuse, but it is the simplicity and the politeness of the request that startles him the most. Draco stares for a moment and then gets up jerkily and walks out.

"Oy!" he calls out and a Death Eater comes sauntering down the stairs a few minutes later. "She wants water." Draco explains at the man's blank look and waits until he brings the drink lethargically. It does not even cross his mind that she might be bluffing or trying to escape. There is no point anymore.

When he re-enters the cell, he realizes that she cannot drink the water herself. Her hands are bound. He will have to bring it up to her lips. Her eyes are guarded as he steps nearer to her and Aunt Bella's voice rings in his head. _You will not even step within five feet of that Mudblood._ He keeps moving and all too soon he is on his knees in front of her and his hand is on her jaw as he tilts her face up and puts the glass to her mouth.

There is surprise in her eyes, but whether it is at the gentleness in his touch or the fact that he is touching her in the first place, he cannot tell. He puts the glass down after she swallows the last mouthful, but he keeps his fingers on her skin. It is a feather-light touch that drags on and on, yet none of them seem to want to let go. Somehow, he drifts even closer to her so that his face is inches away from hers. He feels her warm breath on his lips and his eyes shutter closed on their own accord. They stay like this for a timeless while. It feels like hours and seconds, weeks and months. Moments and eternity.

He opens his eyes and meets Granger's own dilated pupils. A primal instinct urges him to lean in even closer and discover whether her lips are as rich in taste and texture as they seem, but a flash from his wand signals the end of his shift.

And with that, she turns her head to the side and he rises up in a single, fluid motion that propels him out of the door and straight into the arms of something either of them will refuse to name.

* * *

><p><strong>If you like this, I welcome you to read "Crushed, Yet Unbroken" - a sequel to this story. Reviews are golden.<strong>

**Hugs and butterfly kisses,**

**DreamALittleBigger.**


	2. The Whisper of Fate

**DISCLAIMER: Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling**

* * *

><p><em>Hate is easy; love takes courage. ~ Anonymous<em>

**CHAPTER 2: The Whisper of Fate**

He had kissed her once before, a year ago. It had been a joke, a cruel jest. The summer of their sixth year. It was strangely pleasant, but he forced himself to not thing much of it. He is an expert at making himself do things.

But now he can't keep his mind away. The memory torments him and he hates the lack of detail. What did she smell like? Did she kiss him back?

By day three, he can't stand it any longer. The silence breaks.

"What's your favorite book?" He isn't sure what surprises him more, the fact that he has the nerve to ask or that his voice is soft and non-judgmental. Curious. She lifts her gaze from the floor and raises an eyebrow.

"Alice in Wonderland."

"It doesn't really make much sense as a story."

"That's why I like it."

"Okay."

Her eyes narrow in suspicious. She is not used to compliance, especially from him. He doesn't push the subject, simply sitting there and twirling his wand in his hand idly. He tries to look calm and uninterested but his heart beats fast. She is watching him with slightly widened eyes, her head cocked to the side. She seems to make a decision.

"I like the abstract nature of it. It leaves so much room for interpretation. And the best part is, there is no right answer. You just have to sit back and enjoy the nonsense and laugh and let yourself me amused. The message is that there is no message."

"It doesn't have a point," he says. "Doesn't that bother you?"

She takes a moment to think. "No. That's the magic of it, I suppose. It makes you ask questions and it never gives you the answer, but it doesn't bother you. A wonderful thing like that, it's unexplainable. It seems right."

It is as simple as that and the stories begin.

The next day he tells her about his first day at Hogwarts and she describes the day she brought home her cat. He speaks of swimming in the lake behind the manor and she tells him about her favorite color. He has a soft spot for Muggle classics and she likes watching Quidditch. Each day they both learn something different and he feels like he's giving away pieces of him one by one. The information that she gives him in return is precious and sacred and he is not surprised to learn that he would rather spent each day in the Golden Girl's cell than sit through dinner with his family. Soon he starts sneaking her food and making her laugh.

If this isn't magic, he doesn't know what is.

~0OO0~

"Do you miss your friends?" He asks one day as he sits by her side and taps a finger against her chains absentmindedly.

"Of course." The answer is immediate. "Why do you ask?"

He shrugs one shoulder. "You've been sad lately. More sad than usual, I mean. I figure it's because you miss your friends."

"I do. A lot. I hope they're safe." She doesn't comment on his knowledge of her moods, doesn't seem to notice that he knows her well enough to understand her emotions. She takes his hand instead. "You've changed."

"So have you."

She smiles and traces his fingers.

~0OO0~

He places a small raspberry tart in her hands and her eyes light up. Her smile is brilliant and he knows that it is because of his kindness, not the desert itself. It makes his stomach flutter and his breath catch in his throat.

"Thank you." She eats it slowly. He cannot tear his gaze away.

A sense of impending doom overtakes him. He is in love with her and there is nothing he can do about it. It is the most helpless and out of control he has ever felt. Sweeter than honey and more frightening than drowning.

She licks her fingers when she finishes and flashes another smile in his direction. "Draco." He doesn't know why she says his name and he cannot care less. It has become a secret pleasure of his, hearing her say his name without loathing, without contempt. Not _Malfoy_ or _Ferret_ or _Bastard_ or _Twat_. Just his name.

She tastes of raspberry tart and time. The unchanging past and the unshaped future. He tangles his fingers in her hair and her hand grips his collar. It seems unbelievable that even chained to a wall, she gives him freedom.

It is right.


	3. Wonder and Sacrifices

**DISCLAIMER: Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling.**

* * *

><p><strong>CHAPTER 3: Wonder and Sacrifices<strong>

He betrays her in the end. When the Order raids Malfoy Manor and sets fire to the beautiful river, he does not stay and fight by her side. But he knows what Aunt Bellatrix will do, so he takes the painfully familiar steps to Granger's cell and slams the door behind him.

She is standing anxiously, her eyes wide and her hands steady. He cannot stop himself from kissing her.

"Aunt Bellatrix is going to come down here to finish you off," he explains between kisses and unclasping the chains. "The Manor is lost, but she isn't going to let you go. There's nothing else you can give her, so she will finally kill you."

"What about you?"

"I'm leaving with my father."

He hates the hurt look in her eyes.

"They're trapping you, Draco!" She says fiercely. "You don't want to do this. You don't believe in Voldemort's teachings and you're certainly not a killer. You're freeing me. Come with me."

"I can't, love. I'm sorry." That is the only thing she could never understand, the importance of family. No matter how evil or wrong, those people raised him. And they have ways of finding him. If he runs away with her, he will put her danger. And he can't do that. Ever.

"Then I'm staying with you."

He makes a snap decision and takes her hand. "No."

He looks at her. Her eyes are golden and her hair is dusty. Time. She is time. His time, their time. Time they could have had and time they never wanted. Lost and found. Changing.

He takes out a small vial, a clear topaz with a slip of paper inside. There is writing on the paper. The vial is wrapped in cloth.

"I love you." He states the words like a fact and kisses her lips like a promise.

Then he pushes the vial in her hands and snatches the cloth away.

He sees the realization in her eyes, her mouth open in shock and disbelief. The portkey takes her miles away, to a small alley behind a church. She sinks to her knees and throws the vial against the wall.

~0OO0~

In Malfoy Manor, Draco walks and takes his mother's hand. Together, they run from Remus Lupin's _Stupefy_ and disappear, ready to continue the Dark Lord's legacy.

~0OO0~

Hermione Granger picks up the slip of paper that lies among the broken glass. She reads the words written in his careful calligraphy and listens to her heart break.

_Why is a raven like a writing-desk?_

* * *

><p><em><em>**The sequel to this story is called Crushed Yet Unbroken. If you like this, you may like it as well. **

**Reviews are golden!**

**Hugs and butterfly kisses,**

**DreamALittleBigger**


End file.
